Caught
by Seabound
Summary: It was the wrong place, the wrong time. And a huge mistake on her part for agreeing to follow him into his mansion's empty hallways. She should've been at the meeting, not with him. After all, how would Amy Cahill know that Ian Kabra was trying to break her apart, and then put her back together? Amian/Iamy One-Shot


**Well, my obsession for Amian/Iamy has been going so far, that I'm writing one-shots every other day. Review, and check out my Amy/Ian multi-chapter fic "To Forgive".**

1.

She shouldn't have been _there _of all places.

The whiteness of the marble floor was blinding, and she focused her case on the footprints that were barely visible. She felt the gazes of past Kabras staring down at her from their gold encrusted picture frames. An array of antique weapons on display, reversible walls, and hundreds of traps and hidden passages further weighed down on her. She could hear faint chatter of her family from the lounge and dining rooms, and the hurried steps of servants, but the noises were far, and there was no way her yells would reach them.

Her fingers traced patterns on the cream colored leather seat, and she could feel the gaze of the person on the footrest. She longed to put her feet there and kick him in the face, but that simply wasn't the way Amy Cahill worked when it came to Ian Kabra.

Their knees were grazing each other's, and she leaned back as Ian clasped his hands and tilted forward. The smirk plastered across his face was evident, and his amber eyes were watching her squirm. She briefly looked up, but her jade eyes darted to a glass vase instead. His expression was clearly amused.

Amy glanced at the watch on his hand and saw that their silence had been going on for eleven minutes. She bit her lip and smoothed the creases of her beige and black two-tone, wrap-around dress. She suddenly wished that it's sleeves extended beyond the top of her shoulder, and it reached past her knees.

She felt him scan her - from the top of the updo of wavy hair, all the way to her black Chanel pumps. She let the loose strands fall over, as if they would cover the discomfort on her face.

"Why am I here, again?"she asked, mustering the courage to look him in the eye. _  
_

He shrugged, his lips tilting upwards. "Is it a crime to talk to you without being taunted?"

"I never said anything!"

"I'm talking about the rest of the Cahills, love."

She decided to leave; the invitation had been nothing but a chance to embarrass her. His arm was out to push her back down, and he opened his mouth to provide a vague explanation.

"It's about Tolliver," he proclaimed flatly.

The tracing ceased, and she glared at him. "I don't see how my boyfriend is of any concern to you."

"He isn't," Ian said with a frown, "But when my ex is frolicking around with him, it is."

Amy directed her attention to him, and crossed her arms. "Don't you dare try to mess with my life." She and Evan had been going strong on their fifth year ever since she was sixteen, and she wasn't going to let Ian and his lies get between them. A voice in the back of her mind told her to listen, but she knew that as a Cahill, her love life must have had some error involved.

"Cecily Wright," he said, "Not that I am associated with her anymore, but apparently news like this reaches her home of France, before England or America."

"Give me a reason I should believe you," she huffed, eyes narrowing.

Ian tilted his head. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Umm... Ten or so days ago," she replied, looking away. She could tell he was grinning - that smug idiot - and scraped her feet across the floor. Maybe she was guilty of not giving her boyfriend enough attention. She waved off the fact that he seemed to be going out without her, and was always texting a 'friend'. Amy fisted her hands, and let out a deep breathe she hadn't known that she was holding.

She watched as Ian reached into the pocket of his dress pants and pulled out the phone. He swiped at the screen for a few moments before showing Amy a picture.

And boy, did she feel sick to the stomach. The woman was long legged and had the confident body of a model. Too much skin was exposed in her short shorts and corset, and her wild, blonde hair was blown into an attractive mess. Evan was holding the woman's hand, and to her disbelief, was gazing at Cecily in admiration. Ian felt her body stiffen, and Amy handed the smartphone back.

"Wh-where did you f-find this?" she stammered.

He could tell she was getting upset; the soft stutter was back. "Paris. We have a Lucian stronghold there and some agents spotted them. Our cameras around the city took a quick picture."

"Right," Amy muttered, flashes of the clue-hunt coming back to her. "Paris. Graveyard. Marble slabs of doom." For a fleeting second, Ian looked guilty, but the proof of humanity disappeared quickly.

She sighed and they rose simultaneously, knocking into each other. Ian chuckled, and Any giggled, but her face flushed when she noticed the distance between them. She moved to the side and walked backwards a few steps. She gave him a tight smile, a safe distance of three feet away.

"Thanks, I guess," she said, shuffling on her feet.

He smirked at her, "No problem. You know, there's still a chance of him being a Vesper."

Amy glared at him, but a smile tugged at her lips. She threw herself back onto the couch. "Back to the single life," she murmured to herself, but Ian heard and he suppressed his smug smirk from growing. He sat down on the footrest again.

"So that means, say, if I were to do this," Ian tapped her bare knee and his fingers walked upwards, "You wouldn't object."

She scowled and squirmed uncomfortably, blushing under his intense gaze.

"You didn't say anything," he proclaimed. His hand dipped under the dress, and trailed up her thigh. Amy gave an indignant sound, grabbing his hand and pushing it away. Ian's eyebrows rose, and she ducked her head, before standing up.

"I'm not going to sit here any longer while you play around," she huffed, hands on her lips. Her face was burning and she wanted to surrender right there, but a wave of courage washed over her as the Kabra gave her a once-over as if seeing her with a new light.

Ian quickly reached out to catch her arm, and looked into her crystal irises. "This is about Alan, isn't it? It's not my fault - "

"_Evan_," she corrected, "And no. I simply don't enjoy the way you keep trying to make me flustered - "

"Succeeding," he interrupted.

" - and I need to tell him that we are _over._"

"Who said I was playing?" A grin grew across Ian's face, and his arm looped around her waist, pulling her slender body forward. She tried to pry him away, and pushed her hands against his chest.

"Stop it, Ian. Let me go!"

"Why should I?" he said, smiling slyly, "I don't see anything wrong with this."

"There are _thousands_ of things that are wrong." She stopped her attempt at escape and her hands curled into fists.

"Tolliver is done for, and there's no one else here. Besides, I'm quite comfortable."

"Someone could come!" she exclaimed, anxiously gnawing on her bottom lip.

"There's a reason I picked this hallway, Amy."

Her face heated when she felt his breathe fan her neck. His lips were so close; curved into a small smile. Heat pooled in her lower stomach, and it felt as if bolts of electricity were shooting up her spine. She knew her face was probably flaring, but his face was so close, his amber eyes so soft, that she really didn't care. Evan was at the farthest part of her mind, and his memory told her to stop. She paid no mind, and let Ian take the plunge.

Their lips molded perfectly, but humbleness must have made an appearance within the Kabra because he was clearly holding back. At the thought of his consideration, she smiled and her hands moved from his chest to around his neck, fingers lost in his ebony hair. He tugged the barrette that kept up her tight up-do and it fell into a curtain. He tossed the pin onto the couch, hand smoothing it and resting behind her head. The little space between them was gone as he tighten his grip on her. Eyes fluttered shut, and she lost herself in a kiss that shook her more than any other one shared with Jake or Evan.

Ian hadn't seemed to need any air at all; she was first to break away, replenishing her lungs. His mouth moved to her neck, and she involuntarily shivered. He kissed her jaw lightly and locked their lips again. The smell of his clove cologne and the fact that he was holding her so close against his muscled body aided in the reverie of pleasure. She parted her lips ever so slightly...

"Natalie, where's your butler? He took my keys to park my car and - WOAH!"

Amy and Ian shot apart, the Kabra slower and less willingly. She pressed her lips together as if to hide the swelling, but Dan and Natalie had already saw them. The Holts, Starlings, and Jonah emerged from hallways, pulling on coats and asking for their cars. But as soon as they saw blushing Amy, and unfazed Ian, everyone had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

Natalie tapped her foot, disgusted. She was used to her brother disappearing often, but she put everything together and figured that 'I'm tired and bored' was a lie on his part. "Is this what you guys do every meeting?"

Ian grinned, winking at Amy and pulling her towards him by her waist.

"Busted."


End file.
